"Score 14 points."

"Double on rebounds."

“Personal technical rating reaches B or higher.”

“Team technical rating reaches A or higher.”

“Achievement: First triple-double in career.”

“Achievement: Achievement for the first time in a single game in his career.”

“Reward: 100015001500.”

The rewards for this game tonight were generous, because Mo Mengchen was the best player in the game. His technical rating reached A for the first time, which also made his post-match return rise from the usual 800 to 1,000.

A game plus two small achievements made Mo Mengchen earn 4,000 attribute points, which made him unable to stop his smile, and his heart was as sweet as honey.

Oh my, it would be great if it could be like this every day.

4000 attribute points, what is the concept? Five games, or seven or eight surgeries.

There are thousands of achievements on the wall, and he has only completed a few projects now.

I took a look at the current score on my body, and there were a total of 15,000 attribute points.

He hopes to save the score to 30,000 attribute points and use them in one breath. To be honest, he can't do anything, just add a few attributes scattered, without much impact.

That night, at the press conference, Indiana reporters were not very friendly.

"Mo, Reggie thinks your game is inappropriate."

"I still need to learn from him."

“He thinks you like to do unnecessary extra moves while playing games.”

"Yes, I need to learn more from him. Reggie is an "experienced" senior."

No matter what the reporter asked, Mo Mengchen played back like playing Tai Chi and would never look for trouble. The reporter asked in vain because his blow to Miller was completely blind in the camera and the referee's absolute blind spot. Except for the fans who were close to that area, no one knew what he did to Miller.

Even if fans come out to testify, what can they do? Is it true that they see it?

If you want to blame, it’s up to the fact that the mobile phones in this era do not have shooting functions.

After the post-match interviews, press conferences, locker room meetings, player disputes and other things were over, it was already past one o'clock in the morning.

The team decided to return to the hotel to rest for one night and leave tomorrow morning.

When he got on the bus, Mo Mengchen's stomach was already so hungry that he was roaring.

He called Amire Medela.

"I hope you're ready for what I want." The last thing Mo Mengchen wants to hear now is "sorry" or "not yet".

"Please rest assured, I have prepared everything you want, and there will be no less." Medela said confidently.

So Mo Mengchen pressed the phone.

Behind him, Lor, Ratliff, and Don Reed all heard the phone call, and they looked at each other and communicated with eyes.

Lor glared: It's so late, what else should I do?

Reed rolled his eyes back: What else can an adult man do when he calls for service in the middle of the night?

Ratliff shook his head: No, no, no, is it such a person?

Reed gently swept his face: Don't underestimate the lower limit of a man, Theo.

Lor and Ratliff stared at him angrily: Are you not a man?

"Are you wrong?" Houston yawned, and turned around and saw the three bad guys lolling at each other. "What are you doing with your eyes glaring like a cow egg?"

"nothing..."

The bus arrived at the hotel successfully.

Mo Mengchen yawned, tired and hungry, tonight was such the most tiring day in the past.

Tonight's game made him do his best, and he also played good numbers and won the game, but after the tense atmosphere was gone, the feeling of fatigue spread throughout his body.

As an assistant to an NBA player, Medela thought it would be easier, but she was wrong and she was very wrong.

She has done many jobs. When she was in college, in order to pay tuition and maintain her life, she had to work a few jobs in her spare time. The coursework at community colleges was quite easy, and she had enough time to work, which allowed her to accumulate rich work experience.

She has done a lot of work, but none of them is more tiring and tiring than being Momonchen's assistant.

You can't make a difference or not.

Medela walked around Mo Mengchen's hotel room, thinking about whether she had missed anything, but she couldn't remember it. It seemed that she had done everything and felt that something was missing.

In addition to these daily things, Mo Mengchen would also instruct her to do some other things, and she also learned several secrets from this.

The mysterious singer Ethan who has been popular online recently is Mo Mengchen.

Mo Mengchen also registered a sneaker company under Ethan's name, whose operating president is his agent.

He has several investments under his name, and has achieved good results.

Medela felt that she knew too much. If she continued like this, would she be silenced because she "knows too much"?

“What’s missing?”

Medela walked back and forth, her legs and feet trembled. If she made a mistake, Mo Mengchen's stinky mouth would not let her go.

"Are you doing Chacha dance in my room?"

Medela was startled and turned around suddenly.

Mo Mengchen stood at the door, staring at her with a slight look on his face.

I have to say that from a distance, his boss is quite handsome, different from the small eyes of ordinary yellow people. His cheeks are like a European male model, and his cheeks are as delicate as sculptures, with evenly shaped features. If his personality is better, this person is simply charming.

Talented and handsome...

"Uh...I'm just waiting for you." Medela said.

Mo Mengchen pushed his luggage forward, and Medela quickly held it.

“Are you ready?”

Mo Mengchen closed the door and showed fatigue.

"alright."

Without saying anything, he entered the bathroom and lifted a bucket of hot water prepared in advance to the outside, sat on the sofa, and put his feet in.

The bucket is very watery and completely covers Momonchen's calves.

Massage while soaking hot water.

This is very important. Why do many players often get injured? Because their bodies are not fully rested, and some parts of their bodies are very pretentious and must be taken care of by patience.

He did not dare to neglect his lower limbs as fragile as Mo Mengchen, and he devoted himself to taking care of and massage after exercise every night.

“Can you cook?”

The taste of soaking in a hot bucket is so intoxicating that Mo Mengchen is reluctant to let go.

"Yes...of course," Mei Dai said nervously.

"Help me boil the pot and wash the shrimps in the ice bag three or four times... Wait a minute, have your hands finished washing?"

Medela had to wash her hands five times in front of Mo Mengchen. In fact, she felt that she could almost wash it three times, but she washed it five times, but his boss still felt that her hands were not clean.

"Forget it, let's start." Mo Mengchen must accept the consequences of being lazy, even if Medela's hands that may contain dirt may pollute his late-night snack.

"After washing, pour some brandy."

"Spread one third of a spoonful of salt."

Medela was about to do as she was about to do it, but when he opened the bag, his mind suddenly blanked - he was meow, and finally knew why he was so upset just now! He didn't bring salt after a long time! - "Boss...I..." Medela knew that a scolding was inevitable.

Mo Mengchen opened his eyes: "What's wrong?"

"You are a professional player, isn't it bad to eat too much salt?" Medela began to look for various excuses. "You just played such a fierce game tonight. What if you recover because you eat too much salt? I suggest you add some other seasonings. In fact, we can have a healthier way of eating. What do you think?"

Mo Mengchen looked at her like he was studying aliens, "You didn't bring salt, right?"

Medela had a sweet but polite smile on her face.

"Yes, you have successfully offended one of the largest parties on the planet. Be careful, maybe you will be assassinated tonight."

Mo Mengchen is neither a salty party nor a sweet party. His taste is relatively neutral, but because of his prejudice against Americans, he is not very brave to let Medela put sugar.

He felt that there was a problem with the taste buds of Americans. The sweetness that many Chinese people are used to is as light as boiled water for Americans. The sweetness they can accept is completely unacceptable to Chinese people. This is why fat Americans will be so exaggerated once they get fat, because the calories they eat are too high.

"Boss...what should I do?" Medela looked at the prawns who died with fear of revenge, feeling very sorry for them.

"Without salt, there is always sugar? Put a quarter spoonful."

Mo Mengchen said weakly.

Medela continued to unpack the bag, and a big cold sweat suddenly appeared on her forehead.

I don’t even have the candy to him! Am I crazy? I’m going to die! I’m definitely going to be scolded to death by him tonight!
To be continued...